Emily Black and the Philosopher's Stone
by I Love Oc's
Summary: We all know how Harry Potter was the boy who lived but what if someone else was there? The daughter of the mass murderer Sirius Black, Emily Black is also known as the girl who lived. She and Harry must face the challenges ahead. Philosopher's Stone
1. Chapter 1

**Black, Blonde, Black, Red **

_The boy and girl who lived_

"Rose, don't do it. You will just get yourself killed. I know you care for Lily and James but Voldemort will just kill you" said Sirius Black. Rose stopped in front of the door.

"What am I meant to do? Watch them die. Sirius don't you care for James at all?" Rose said quickly. Sirius just stared at her.

"Honey, there is nothing we can do" said Sirius quietly. Sirius walked up to her to comfit her.

"Well there is one thing I am not going to do. And that is sit here talking about this while Lily is about to die. You should be in this too. James was your best friend and Harry is your godson. Are you just going to let them die?" she said sadly. Sirius put his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

"So what is the plan?" Sirius asked. Rose smiled.

"Well I was thinking of me going to Godric's hallow and see if I can save Lily, James and young Harry, while you go and hunt down Peter Pettigrew" she said partly calm. Sirius looked shocked by this. "What are we going to do with Emily? Just leave her here?" he said shocked. Rose sighed then looked up at him.

"Well I was hoping you would not say that. 'Cause I was planning on taking Emily with me" said Rose sadly. Sirius looked even more shocked by this. He stared at her with his eyes open wide.

"What! She could get killed. What are you thinking" he shouted. Rose sighed again. Sirius let go of her and slapped himself on the forehead.

"Babe, I know it sounds risky but I was thinking if I do make it, I can have a little chat to them and while I am doing so, Harry and Emily can have a play" she said calmly. Now it was Sirius's turn to sigh. He continued staring at her.

"If you even do survive, which, no one has ever survived him before. I don't need to lose the ones I love" he said putting his hands on her shoulders. Sirius started to get tears in his eyes. Rose stared up at him. From the other side of the door they could hear a baby crying. Rose sighed and laughed a little.

"Well I guess we were making too much noise" said Rose happily. Sirius just stared at her.

"I have not ever heard you laugh about something else. I mostly do the laughing. Who are you and what have you done to Rose?" said Sirius laughing. Rose stopped laughing and smiled at him.

"Well I am a Rose that is going to check on her daughter then going to save her best friend" said Rose. Sirius sighed and looked down at his feet.

"Well I guess I can't change your mind then" said Sirius sadly. The baby cried again. Sirius still had tears in his eyes. Sirius sighed for like the firth time now. "I think you should go and check on her." he added. Rose nodded and went through the door.

The room was not very big but it was big enough to be a baby's room. In the middle of the room was a cot, and in that cot was a baby.

The baby had a kind of black hair, nice brown eyes and a cute giggle. Rose went over to Emily then Sirius came through the door.

"I guess I should get a last look at Emily because this might be the last time I get to see her" said Sirius sadly. Rose looked down at Emily then around to Sirius. Rose sighed then picked up Emily. Emily was still crying, so Rose started humming. Sirius swayed side to side and Emily's crying died down. Emily stopped crying and looked up at Rose. Rose smiled and Sirius came over next to Rose. Sirius smiled too and started to tickle Emily. Emily started to giggle and wiggle about. Sirius sighed. "You know I am going to miss that giggle" said Sirius sadly. Rose gave Sirius a kiss on the cheek to try and cheer him up.

"That won't cheer me up Rose but maybe if you let me hold Emily for awhile?" said Sirius looking down at Emily. Sirius stopped tickling Emily and Emily looked up to him. Rose thought about it for awhile.

"Oh come on Rose, it can't be that hard to decide if I can hold her?" Sirius whined. Rose laughed at Sirius.

"What?" Sirius added. Rose laughed a bit more. This time Emily joined in.

"Oh, come on babe, I was only teasing you. Of cause you can hold her. You are her father aren't you?" said Rose laughing. Rose handed Emily to Sirius. Sirius held Emily carefully so she would not cry. Rose smiled at how careful Sirius is being. He is usually the one that does the pranks. Sirius would usually prank the Slytherins but mostly Severus Snape which they call Snivellus. But here we are with the use-to-be prank master. Sirius just stared at Emily for a few minutes. Rose just stood beside of the cot watching him. He seems so loving when he is like this.

'I think Sirius will make a good father' Rose thought to herself. Rose walked up to Sirius and stood next to him. Sirius looked up from Emily then to Rose.

"Do you think you had enough time with her? Because I have my best friend to save and I also have to save yours" said Rose. Sirius sighed and handed Emily back to Rose. Rose smiled and kissed Sirius on cheek again. Sirius smiled and kissed her back.

"Well I think we should get going" said Rose sadly.

When Rose and Emily was outside of Godric's hallow they could see someone looking out of the window. Rose could see some long red hair, so she knew that it was Lily. She and Emily went up to the door. Rose was about to knock on the door but it open just when she was about to hit it. As soon as the door was open enough to go in, she took Emily into the house.

Rose took Emily to the lounge room to where Harry was. They found Harry in a cot near the wall. Luckily the cot was big enough for two babies. Rose put Emily into the cot with Harry while Rose was going to have a chat with Lily and James.

It took a few minutes for Emily to fall asleep but it was quiet after.

"So do you know when Voldemort will be here?" Rose asked. Lily sighed.

"We don't really know, I just hope it is not any time soon" said Lily sadly. Rose looked over to Emily and Harry.

"They seem so peaceful together, when Voldemort comes, I just hope that they can survive" said Rose quietly. Lily went over to the cot that Harry and Emily are in. James and Rose followed behind. "You know, Harry looks a lot like you James but is seems that he has Lily's eyes" said Rose. Lily ran her hand through Harry's hair. Just then they heard someone bang the door down.

"I will try and slow him down" said James. Rose just stared at him. James ran through the door and then stopped to close the door. Rose went over to stand in front Harry and Emily's cot. Lily already got her wand out; they heard Voldemort shout the killers curse. Rose and Lily stood still, both had their wands out. 'Poor James' Rose thought. They saw the door handle turning, their wands rose, just door quickly opened. In the door way, they could see Voldemort. They did not get a chance to fire any spells because he was just was firing curses. One of the killing curses hit Rose. Lily looked at dead body, Lily went over to the cot to try and protect them. When she got over there, she checks to see if they were still alive. Harry moved around a little, Lily sighed with relief. Emily started to squirm around, Lily turned around to see a killer curse coming straight to her. She did not get a time to run for it, she got hit in the chest by the curse. Voldemort went over to the cot to try and kill Emily and Harry.

"Avada Kadavra" Voldemort shouts but instead of killing Harry and Emily, the curse backfires and Voldemort disappears.

Sirius was walking very quickly in order to find Peter Pettigrew. He walked for a few minutes and then found Peter down the street. Sirius ran over to him and Peter looked around. Peter Pettigrew had a shocked looked on his face.

"Sirius why did you hand over Lily, James and your wife" Peter complained. Sirius had an angry look on his face.

"Why did you do it Peter? Why did you hand them over to Voldemort?" Sirius shouted at Peter. Peter looked like he was going to cry. Sirius came closer to Peter.

"If I had said no, he would have killed me" Peter whined. Sirius started to growl.

"You should have died. You should have died then to betray your friends" Sirius said angrily. Peter pointed his wand to the house.

"Avada Kadavra" Peter shouted. With the one curse it killed thirteen muggles. Peter was shouting "Why would you do it Sirius? They were your friends" he shouted through the smoke. He grabbed a knife out of his pocket and cut off one of his fingers. Peter transforms into a rat and run down the sewers with the other rats. Sirius ran down the road to get to Godric's hallow to see if his wife was still alive. He stopped by his old house to get his motorbike. He kick started the motorbike and sawed through the sky.

Dumbledore was walking down a street were everything from his name to his boots were unwelcome. He was rummaging in his clock, looking for something. He did not realise the he was being watched by a cat from the other end of the street. For some reason the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered something to himself.

'I should have known.'

Dumbledore pulled out the out-putter and clicked it twelve times. All the lights went out and the only light you could see was the lights from the distant. Dumbledore putted the out-putter back into the pocket in his robes

"Fancy seeing you here, professor McGonagall" he said to the cat. He turned to smile at the cat but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a woman who was wearing square glasses. She was wearing also a clock but this one was an emerald. Her black hair was in a bun.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear professor, I have never seen a cat sit so stiffly" he said.

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day" said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on the way here" he said. Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right. But you would think they'd be a bit more careful, but no-even the muggles have noticed something going on. It was on their news" she said. "I heard it. Flocks of owls...shooting stars...well, they are not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent-I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never mad much sense" she said. "You can't blame them. We have had precious little for the past eleven years" said Dumbledore.

"I know that" said professor McGonagall. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in board daylight, not even dressed in muggle clothes, swapping rumours" she added. She through a glance at Dumbledore as hoping he would tell her something but he didn't, so she went on.

"Fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems too disappeared at last, the muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?" she said.

"It certainly seems so. We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?" he asked.

"A what?" she said confessed.

"A sherbet lemon, they are a muggle sweet I am rather fond of" he answered.

"No, thank you" she said coldly. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has really gone-" Dumbledore cut in.

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like you could call him by his name? All this "You-Know-Who nonsense- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort" he said. Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two sherbet lemons, seemed not to notice.

"It all gets confessing if we keep on say "You-Know-Who". I have never seemed I reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't. But you're different. Everyone knows that you are the only one that You-Know – oh, all right, Voldemort – was frightened of" she said.

"You flatter me, Voldemort has powers I will never have" he said calmly.

"Only because you are too – well – noble to use them" she said.

"Its lucky it is dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs" he said. Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore.

"Owls are nothing to the rumours that is flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?" she said. It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached a point she was most anxious to discuss the real reason she had been waiting on a cold hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had did she fix Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain to whatever 'everyone' was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another sherbet lemon and did not answer.

"What they're saying" she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hallow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are – are – that they're – dead". Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James ... I can't believe it ... I didn't want to believe it ... oh, Albus ..." Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder.

"I know ... I know ..." he said heavily. Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on.

"That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke – and that's why he's gone" Dumbledore nodded glumly. "It's – it's true?" said professor McGonagall. "After all he's done ... all the people he's killed ... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding ... of all things to stop him ... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess. We may never know" he said. Professor McGonagall pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it.

It was a very old watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers, instead, little planets moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore because he put it back in his pocket and said "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way" he said.

"Yes and I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?" she said.

"I come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now".

"You don't mean – you can't mean the people who live here?" cried professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at the house. "Dumbledore – you can't. I have been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son – I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!" she said quickly.

"It's the best place for him" Dumbledore said firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything when he's older. I've written them a letter" he said.

"A letter?" repeated professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He will be famous – a legend – I would not be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future – there will be books written about Harry – every child in our world will know his name!" she said.

"Exactly, it would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous, before he can walk or talk. Famous, for something he won't even remember. Can't you see how much better it will be for him, growing up from all of that until he is ready to take it?" Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed and then said

"Yes – yes, you're right, of cause. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" she eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding something underneath it.

"Hagrid is bringing him" he said.

"Do you think it's – wise – to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?" she asked.

"I trust Hagrid with my life" said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place" said Professor McGonagall "but you can't pretend he is not careless. He does tend to – what was that?"

A slow rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky – and a huge motorbike fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing to the man who was sitting in the bike. He was almost as twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed and so wild – long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands were the size of dustbin lids and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid" said Dumbledore sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorbike?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir" said the giant climbing carefully off the motorbike as he spoke.

"Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got them, sir"

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir – house was almost destroyed but I got them out all right before the muggles started swarmin' around. They fell asleep as we were flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

They looked over to the other baby, who was asleep as well. Under her raven black hair over her forehead, they could see a V shape cut.

"Is that where –?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes" said Dumbledore. "They will have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in useful. I have one myself above my left knee which is a perfect map of the London underground. Well – give them here, Hagrid – we better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned towards the Dursley's house.

"May I ask, where is Emily going to live?" said Professor McGonagall

"She is going to live with the Weasley's" said Dumbledore

Professor McGonagall took Emily into her arms.

"Could I – could I say goodbye to them, sir?" Hagrid asked.

He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry than to Emily and gave them what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall. "You will wake up the muggles!"

"S-s-sorry" sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it – Lily, James and Rose dead – poor little Harry going to live with muggles and Emily going to live with a wizarding family -"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we will be found" Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked up to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle, Hagrid's shoulder shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

The next minute there was a crack sound from the distance and two red- headed people appeared. Dumbledore, Professor and Hagrid turned around.

"Right on time, Molly and Arthur" said Dumbledore breaking the silences. The woman called Molly smiled. Professor McGonagall walked over to them and handed Molly, Emily. Molly and Arthur looked at Emily. She was sleeping soundly until the sound of Hagrid crying woke her up. She looked around and saw the two red-headed people. They smiled at me and saw that my parents were not here. I whined a bit but did not cry. Molly looked at me and stroked my hair. Her touch was so familiar but I could not put me little finger on it. I seemed to calm down as she continued stroking my hair.

"Well I guess there will be no more problems" said Dumbledore

Molly and Arthur nodded and with a crack they disappeared.

"Well" said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We have no more business staying here. We may go and join the celebrations"

"Year" said Hagrid in a muffled voice. "I best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall – Professor Dumbledore, sir"

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swang himself on to the motorbike and kicked the engine into life, with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall" said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could see the bundle of blankets on the step at number four.

"Good luck, Harry" he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Nearly ten years has passed since the Weasley kids found out someone else is staying with them, but the day did not change much. The sun rose on the same tidy garden and lit up the sign saying 'The Burrow' at the Weasley's front entrance. It crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been the night when Mr Weasley heard that James, Lily and Rose were killed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of the red-head kids playing in the back yard, being hugged and kissed by their mother and other sorts. The room had no sign at all that another girl lived in that house, too.

Yet Emily Black was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. Her two cousins Fred and George were awake and it was their voice which made the first sound of the day.

"Up! Get up! Now Emily!"

I woke with a start. My cousins rapped on the door again.

"Up" they screeched. I heard them walking towards the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the cooker. I rolled on to her back and tried to remember the dream I had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorbike in it. I had a funny feeling I'd had that dream before.

My cousins were back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" one of them said. I think it was Fred,

"Nearly" I said.

"Well, get a move on, mum wants you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare burn it. Mum wants everything perfect on Ginny's birthday" said the other one.

I groaned.

"What did you say?" Fred asked through the door.

"Nothing, nothing..." I said.

Ginny's birthday – how could I have forgotten? I got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. I found a pair under by bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, putting them on. I was used of spiders, because the basement was full of them, and that is where I slept.

When I was dressed I went down the hall to the kitchen. The table was a little bit covered by Ginny's birthday presents. It looked like Ginny got the doll she wanted, not to mention the second dairy and a 'how to get back at your older cousin' book. Exactly why she wanted one was a mystery to her as Ginny didn't like to read and get back at her – unless of course it involved her brothers. Ginny's favourite person to get back at was me but she could not catch her very often. I did not look like it but I was very fast.

Maybe it had something to do with living in a basement but I had always been small and skinny for my age. I looked even smaller and skinnier than I really was because I could fit into Ginny's clothes and she was smaller than she was. I had a thin face, raven black hair and gray eyes. The only thing I like about my own appearance was a very thin scar on my forehead which was a shape like a V. I had it a long as I could remember and the first question I could ever remember is asking my Aunt Molly was how I got it.

"I don't know how you got it and I don't know how your parents died." She had said. "And don't ask it again"

_Don't repeat questions_ – that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Weasley's.

Uncle Arthur entered the kitchen as I was turning over the bacon.

I was frying eggs by the time the rest of the family arrived in the kitchen. I put the plates of eggs and bacon on the table, which was kind of hard because of all of the twin's pranks and other stuff. Ginny, meanwhile, was counting her presents. Her face fell.

"Six. I am one short. Where is the one from Charlie?"said Ginny looking up at us. I, who could see the sadness in her eyes, began thinking of a way to cheer her up. But I had no luck.

Aunt Molly obviously scented the sadness too, because she said quickly "Your brother Charlie sent me five galleons for you to spend on anything you want. How is that Ginny?"

I could see that Ginny was thinking of how to make her brothers jealous. "So I will have five galleons"

"Then you will have a present from everyone" said Aunt Molly.

"Oh...ok" Ginny sat down and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then"

I chuckled.

"Little Gin wants to get her brothers back, just like her cousin. Atta girl, Ginny" I said hugging her.

At that moment the family owl, Errol, flew in and Aunt Molly went to read the letter while the rest of us watch as Ginny was unwrap some make-up, chocolate frogs, the dairy, the doll and a teddy bear. She was ripping the paper off a bracelet when Aunt Molly came back from Errol, looking a bit worried.

"Bad news, Arthur, the Tonks can't take her. Andromeda is not feeling too well so Ted is looking after her" she said.

Ginny's mouth fell open in shock but mine heart gave a leap. Every year on Ginny's birthday her parents took her and one of her brothers out for the day. Every year I was left behind with Andromeda. She was kind and friendly to her and sometimes Nymphadora would come and visit. We would play with make-up and dress up.

"Now what?" said Aunt Molly looking at me. I knew I ought to feel sorry that Andromeda is not feeling so well, but it wasn't easy when I reminded myself that it would be a whole year before I could play dress up and play with make up again.

"We could phone Gideon" Uncle Arthur suggested.

"Don't be silly, Arthur, he is dead."

The Weasleys often spoke when they thought we were not there or that we were not listening.

"What about you're Aunt Muriel?"

"Emily does not even like her." Aunt Molly said.

"You could just leave me here" I put in hopefully (I'd be able to sneak out some of Fred and George's pranks)

Aunt Molly looked like Fred just pulled one of his pranks.

"And find the place with all of Fred and George's pranks everywhere" she said.

"I am not going to make that big of a mess" I said but they were not listening.

"I suppose we could take her with us" said Aunt Molly.

"I just got the car fixed, so we can't use it yet"

Ron started to cry loudly. In fact he was not really crying, it had been years since he cried over little things.

"Oh come on little Ronnie, be a big boy" said Fred.

" You don't want to spoil Ginny's big day" said George.

"But I don't want her to come." He said between fake sobs. "She will make me suffer even more".

Half an hour later, I, who could not believe my luck, was standing in front of the fireplace with Molly, Ginny and Ron. Not only going to be with Ginny on her birthday for the first time but also travelling by flu powder. But before we left, Aunt Molly had taken me aside.

"If Ronald makes you angry and magical things happen. Tell me ok" she said happily.

"Ok Aunt Molly" I said.

While we were looking around Molly was talking to herself about Arthur's job.

"First he takes a job that involves muggle artefacts and now he is interested in Muggle motorbikes" she said to herself.

"I had a dream about a motorbike" I said remembering, "It was flying"

Molly stopped and Ron nearly crashed into her.

"Muggle motorbikes don't fly" she said plainly.

"I know they don't. It was only a dream" I said.

It was a sunny Saturday and Diagon Ally was crowded with families. The Weasleys brought Ron, Ginny and me an ice- cream sundae each at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

I had the best morning I'd had in a long time. Ron was a little careful to walk away from me and Ginny just in case we had make- up on us. We ate at a cafe and when Ron had a tantrum because he was sick of being with girls. Aunt Molly brought him another one and allowed me and Ginny to finish our first.

I felt afterwards that I should have known it was all too good to last.

After lunch we went to Flourish & Blotts to buy the older boy's their school stuff much to Ginny's annoyance. It was big and had lots of books at all lengths and sizes. Ginny wanted to go and find the romantic books as for Ron he just wanted to get out of there. I just looked around at all of the books. Ginny quickly found a romantic book and started to read the first few pages. She was so caught up in her own little world, she did not notice me behind her.

"What are you reading Ginny" I asked.

"Just the most romantic book ever. Mum can I have it?" she asked.

Aunt Molly came over with the books she needed and looked at the price.

"Sorry Ginny, it is too much, maybe next year." She said.

Ginny put the book back on the shelf and walked away. I got the book off the shelf and looked at the cover. I did not notice that there was a spider on my shoulder. Ginny turns around and looks at my shoulder.

"Um Emily you have a spider on your shoulder" she said to me.

I look at my shoulder and I saw a big spider there. I started to shake and Ginny came over and got the spider off of my shoulder. Ron saw my face which was like deathly pale and laughed. I turned around to face him.

"I wonder what your face would look like if you had a spider on your shoulder, Ron." I said angrily.

Ron ran up to me and took the book off of me. I was about to try and get it back, when all of the books on the shelf started to fly around. I ducked as a book came towards me. Aunt Molly came over and looked at me. She didn't have an angry look on her face but I smile. The shop keeper came over and looked at me. I didn't get a good look at him it was just too fast. The next thing I knew everything was back to normal and I was on the ground. I looked around and saw that Aunt Molly and Ginny were next to me.

"What happened?" I asked.

Ginny smiled.

"Since the books were going round in circles, you kind of got dizzy and fell over." Ginny said.

Ginny helped me up and Molly paid for the books. We walked around for awhile but then got bored.

"I think it is time we go home" Aunt Molly said to us.

We nodded our head in agreement and headed for a fireplace.

When we got back to the Burrow I was feeling tired so I went to my room to have a rest.

I'd lived with the Weasleys almost ten years, as long as I can remember, ever since I was a baby and my parents died. Sometimes when I strain my memory during long hours in my room, I came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light, a baby crying and a burning pain in my forehead. I couldn't remember my parents at all. My Aunt and Uncle never spoke of them and of course I was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.

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	3. Chapter 3

What had happen at the book shop is the news everywhere. It had earned me the most embarrassing time of my life. Fred and George kept asking me questions, Ron keeps on throwing books at me and Percy keeps telling me I should not be scared of spiders. By the time everything was settled down the summer holidays started.

Just like always, Errol came with the post. As always, since he is a dumb owl, he flew straight into the window.

"Emily came you please get the post" Molly said to me.

I did as I was told and went to get the mail off of Errol. When I got there, I could see three letters. I got the letters off of Errol so I could get a better look at them. There was a postcard, a bill and – _a letter for me._

I picked it up and stared at it. No one in my whole life has ever written to me. Yet there was a letter addressed to me, no mistaking it:

Miss E. Black

In the basement

Ottery St

Catchpole

Devon

The envelope was thick and heavy, made out of yellowish parchment and the address was in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.

Turning the envelope over, hand trembling, I saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake surrounding a letter 'H'.

"What are you doing Emily, bring me the mail" shouted Ron from the kitchen.

I went back to the kitchen, still staring at the letter. I handed Uncle Arthur the bill and the postcard, sat down and slowly began to open the yellow envelope.

"Dad!" said Ron suddenly. "Dad, Emily's got something!"

I was at the point of unfolding my letter, which was written in the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was sharply out of my hand by Fred.

"That's mine" I said, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing to you?" said George holding the letter in one hand. He glanced at it and his face went red with excitement.

"D-D-Dad" said Fred.

Ginny tried to grab the letter to read it but Fred held it high out of her reach. Aunt Molly took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it look as if she was going to faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking sound.

"Arthur- Oh my goodness- Arthur!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten we were still in the room. Ron who was not used to being ignored, tried to take the letter.

"I want to read the letter" he said loudly.  
"I want to read it" I said "as it is mine"

"Ron, Emily and Ginny, out" Uncle Arthur said.

I didn't move.

"I want my letter" I said a little louder this time.

"let me see it" said Ron.

"Out" said Arthur louder this time. Bill, Fred and George took all three of us out into the hall, closing the door behind them.

"Arthur" Aunt Molly was saying in an excitement voice "look at the address – how could he possibly know where she sleeps? You don't think he is watching the house?"

"Dumbledore has his own ways" said Uncle Arthur said.

"But what should we do? We don't have enough money to pay for hers too"

"Don't worry Molly, I am sure we will have enough money for hers too"

That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Arthur visited me in my basement.

"Where is my letter?"I said the moment he got through the door. "Who's writing to me?"

"It is a surprise" he told me. "But right now you are going to move all of your stuff down to Ginny's room. We feel that you should be in a bigger room and with more girls"

The Weasley's house has six bed rooms: Molly and Arthur share a master bedroom, Ginny's was on the first floor, Fred and George shared a room on the second, Percy was also on the second, Bill had his own room, Ron was on the top but under the attic and mine was in the basement. It took me a few trips to get all of my stuff to Ginny's room but it did not take that long.

The next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Ron was in shock. When the post arrived, Molly told Percy to get the post. When he got the post, he went through them. Then he shouted,

"There is another one! Miss E. Black, Room on the first floor, Ottery St –"

With surprise, Molly jumped up from her seat and ran down the hall, with me behind her. Molly had to snatch the letter off of Percy, which was a bit hard with me trying to get it off of her. Molly straightened up, gasping for breath, with my letter in her hand.

"Go to your shared room, Emily" Aunt Molly said to me.

I walked round and round in my new shared bedroom. Someone knew I had moved out of the basement and they seem to have known that I have not received the first letter. Surely it meant they would try again? And this time I'd make sure they didn't fail. I had a plan.

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. I turned it off quickly and got dressed silently. I mustn't wake the Weasleys. I walked down stairs without turning on any of the lights.

I was going to wait for Errol with the post and get the mail first. My heart hammered as I crept across the dark hall towards the window.

"AAAAARRRGH!"

I fell through the air – I had tripped over something big and squashy on the floor – something alive.

The lights clicked on upstairs and to my horror I realised that I had tripped over a sleeping Percy. Percy had originally been sleeping on a chair but fell off in the night, clearly making sure that I didn't do exactly what I'd been trying to do. He yelled at me for about half an hour then told me to go and have some breakfast. I shuffled miserably off into the kitchen, and by the time I got back, the post had arrived, right into Uncle's Arthurs lap. I could see three letters addressed in green ink.

"I want –" I began, but Uncle Arthur was stuffing the letters in his pocket before my eyes.

Uncle Arthur didn't go to work that day. He just stayed home and sorted out all of the letters.

"Why does Dumbledore keep on sending them when we are getting them?" asked Arthur.

"He just wants to make sure that she is getting the letters" said Molly.

On Friday, no fewer than twelve letters arrived for me. As Errol could not carry them all, another owl helped him.

Uncle Arthur stayed home again. He burnt some of the letters that came today.

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to me came by owl.

"Who on earth wants to talk to you this badly" Ron asked me in amazement.

On Sunday morning, Uncle Arthur sat down at the breakfast table looking rather tired but happy.

"We shouldn't have any post on Sunday" said Uncle Arthur.

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and hit me on the head. The next moment thirty or forty letter came pelting out of the fireplace. The Weasleys ducked but I leapt in the air trying to catch one.

"That does it. We need to tell her now." said Uncle Arthur.

I just looked at him.

"No Arthur, Hagrid was going to tell her" said Aunt Molly.

When the letters calmed down everyone looked at Aunt Molly and Uncle Arthur.

"Tell me what?" I asked them.

They looked at me then each other.

"Don't worry. Emily I am going to take you somewhere special tomorrow" Aunt Molly said to me.

I looked at her surprised. I don't get taken anywhere special much.

The next day was my favourite day of the year, my birthday. I haven't done much on my birthday the past few years. This was also the day Aunt Molly was going to take me somewhere special.

Today was Monday which means that tomorrow is Tuesday. Tuesday is when I am going to turn eleven.

Aunt Molly took me to Leaky Cauldron to where we would be staying the night. I stayed in room 11 and Aunt Molly stayed in room 12. She didn't tell me what the surprise was but then again it was a surprise.

When night time fell, it started to rain heavily. Spray of rain hit the windows which kept me awake. I rolled over to get more comfortable, my stomach rumbling from hunger. The clock on the side table told me that I will be eleven in ten minutes. I lay and watched my birthday tick nearer wondering if the Weasleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter-writer was now.

Five minutes to go. I heard something creak outside. I hope someone isn't going to get me. Four minutes to go. I wonder how Ron and Ginny are going back home.

Three minutes to go. Was that Aunt Molly coughing that loud. Two minutes to go. Was that something falling making that loud thumping sound.

One minute to go and I would be eleven. Thirty seconds ... twenty ... ten – nine – maybe I should get dressed, just for the sake – three – two – one –

BOOM.

I bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

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	4. Chapter 4

BOOM. They knocked again. I am fully awake now.

"Who's there?" I shouted

There was a pause. Then –

SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash on the floor.

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all that hair.

The giant squeezed his way into the room, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door and fitted it back into the frame. He turned and looked at me.

He strode over to the sofa and sat down.

"An' here's Emily!" said the giant.  
I looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yer've got yeh mum's eyes"

I was still looking up at him.

"Anyway – Emily, a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here – I mighta sat on it some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. I opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with happy birthday Emily written on it in green icing.

I looked up at the giant. I meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to my mouth, and what I said instead was 'Who are you?"

The giant chuckled.

"True, I haven't introduced myself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook my whole arm. His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shrivelled crisp packets in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace ; I couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole room with flickering light and I felt the warmth wash over me as though I'd sunk into a hot bath.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sort of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy packet of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs and a bottle of some amber liquid which he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the room was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausages. I didn't say a thing while he was working, nut as he slid the first six fat, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, I fidgeted a little.

He passed the sausages to me, which I was so hungry I had never tasted anything so wonderful, but I still couldn't take my eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, I said, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm the Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts – yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course."

"Er – no" I said.

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry" I said quickly.

"Sorry?" barked Hagrid, "it's the Weasleys that should be sorry. I knew you weren't getting your letters but I never thought yeh didn't know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yer never wonder where yer parents learnt it all?"

"All what?" I asked.

"ALL WHAT" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!"

He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole room.

"Do you mean to tell me that you know nothin' abou' – about anything?"

I thought this was going a bit far.

"I know some things. I know about Diagon Alley and magic" I said.

"But yeh must know about yer mum" he said. "I mean, she's famous. You're famous."

"What? My – my mum wasn't famous, was she?"

"Yeh don' know ... yeh don' know ..." Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing me with a bewildered stare.

"Yeh don' know what yeh are?" he said finally.

"They never told yeh? They never told yeh what yeh are? An' they've kept it from yeh all these years?"

"Kept what from me?" I said eagerly.

"Emily – yer a witch."

There was silence in the room.

"I'm a what?" I gasped.

"A witch, o' course" said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "an' a thumpin' good' un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum and a dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon its abou' time yeh read yer letter."

I stretched out my hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Miss E. Black, Room 11, Leaky cauldron, Charing Cross road. I pulled out the letter and read:

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY**

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Miss Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on the 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Questions exploded inside my head like fireworks and I couldn't decide which one to ask first. After a few minutes I stammered, "What does it mean, they await my owl?"

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl – a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl – a long quill and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note which I could read upside- down:

Dear Mr Dumbledore,

Given Emily her letter. Taking her to buy her things tomorrow. Weathers horrible. Hope you are well.

Hagrid

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the window and throw it out into the rain. Then he came back and sat down as though this was a normal as talking on the telephone.

I realised my mouth was open and quickly closed it.

"Um Hagrid, how did my parents die?" I asked.

"I never expected this. I don't know if I am the right person to tell yeh – but someone gotta – you can't go off to Hogwarts not knowin'. Well it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh – mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it is a great myst'ry, parts of it ..."

He sat down and stared into the fire for a few seconds and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with – with a person called – but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows –"

"Who?"

"Well – I don't like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Emily, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See there was this wizard who went ... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was ..."

Hagrid gulped but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" I suggested.

"Nah – can't spell it. All right – Voldemort." Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway this – this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers got 'em, too – some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was getting himself power, all right. Dark days, Emily. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches ... terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him – an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You – Know – Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyways.

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as a good witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before ... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the dark side.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em ... maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you were staying, on Hallowe'en ten years ago. You were just one year old. He came ter the house an' – an' –"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad – knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find – anyway –

"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then – an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing – he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? that is no ordinary cut. That's what yer get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh – took care of yer mum an' dad an' the house, even – but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Emily. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age – the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts – an' you was only a baby an' you lived."

Something very painful was going on in my mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, I saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than I had ever remembered it before – and I remembered something else, for the first time in my life – a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Hagrid was watching me sadly.

"Took yeh from the ruin house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yer ter the Weasleys."

"But what happened to Vol – sorry – I mean You-Know-Who?

"Good question, Emily. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see ... he was getting more an' more powerful – why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Emily. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on – I dunno what it was, no one does – but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked at me with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but me, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A witch? Me? How could I possibly be?

"Hagrid," I said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a witch"

To my surprise, Hagrid chuckled.

"Not a witch, eh? Never made things happen when you was angry, or scared?"

I looked into the fire. Now that I thought about it ... every odd thing that had ever happen to me was when I was scared or angry... when Ron snatched a book off me, book started to fly around...when I chicken attacked me, the eggs started to fly at them... and the last time the twin play a joke on me, there jokes all backfired for a week.

I looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at him.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Emily Black, not a witch – you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

I yawned.

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

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**I am back with another one. Is it good that I am updating fast. Keep those reviews coming.**


	5. Chapter 5

I woke up early the next morning. Although I could tell it was daylight, I kept my eyes shut tight.

"It was a dream," I told myself firmly. "I dreamed there was a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for witches. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in the basement."

There was a sudden loud tapping noise.

'And there is one of the twins tapping on the door.' I thought, my heart sinking. But I still didn't open my eyes. It was such I good dream.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"All right," I mumbled. "I'm getting up."

I sat up and saw that Hagrid was sleeping on the couch. There was an owl rapping its claws on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

I went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.

"Don't do that."

I tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at me and carried in savaging to coat.

"Hagrid!" I said loudly. "There's an owl –"

"Pay him" Hagrid grunted on the sofa.

"What?"

"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets."

Hagrid coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, teabags ... finally, I pulled out a handful of strange looking coins.

"Give him five knuts" said Hagrid sleepily.

I counted out five knuts and the owl held out its leg so I could put the money in a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window.

Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched.

"Best be off, Emily, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

"Um – Hagrid?"

"Mm" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.

"I haven't got any money"

"First stop fer us in Gringotts. Have you still got your letter?"

I took the envelope out of my pocket.

"Good. There's a list there of everything yeh need."

I unfold a second piece of paper I hadn't noticed the night before and read"

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCARFT AND WIZARDRY**

Uniform

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, silver fastening

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

Set books

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The standard book of spells (grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A history of magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical theory by Adalbert Waffling

A beginner's guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One thousand magical herbs and fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical drafts and potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic beast and where to find them by Newt Scamander

The dark forces by Quentin Trimble

Other equipment

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

We went down the stairs into that pub. There wasn't many people there. A pale young made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Emily, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"B-B-Black," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping me hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"

"D-Defence Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, B-B-Black?" he laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

"Must get on – lots ter buy. Come on, Emily."

Hagrid led me though the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a dustbin and a few weeds.

"Is Professor Quirrell always nervous?'

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta some books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience ... they say he met vampires in the Black Forest and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag – never been the same since. Scared of the student, scared of his own subject – now, where's me umbrella?"

Vampires? Hags? My head was swimming. Hagrid meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the dustbin.

"Three up ... two across ..." he muttered. "Right, stand back, Emily."

He tapped the wall three times with the point of the umbrella. The brick he had touch quivered – it wriggled – in the middle, a small hole appeared – it grew wider and wider – a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway on a cobbled street which twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

I grinned at my amazement. We stepped through the archway. I quickly looked over my shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly into solid wall.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons – All Sizes – Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver – self-Stirring – Collapsible said the sign hanging over them.

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."

As we were walking, I saw a plump woman outside an apothecary's was shaking her head as we passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad ..."

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium – Tawny , Screech, Barn, Brown and Snowy. Several boys of about my age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," I heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand – fastest ever – " There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments I have never seen before, windows stacked with barrels with bat spleens and eels eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon ...

"Gringotts," said Hagrid.

We had reached a snowy-white building which towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was –

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps towards him. The goblin was about half a head shorter than me. he had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, I noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as we walked inside. Now we were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them"

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn,

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

"Like I said, yeh'd been mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid.

A pair of goblins bowed to us through the silver doors and we were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins on brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of those. Hagrid and I made for the counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Miss Emily Black's safe."

"Do you have her key, sir?"

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid and he started emptying his pockets on the counter, scattering a handful of mouldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. I watched the goblin on our right weighing a pile of rubes as big as glowing coal.

"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.

The goblin looked at it closely.

"That seems to be in order."

"An' I've got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well," he said, handing the letter back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog-biscuits but inside his pockets, Hagrid and me followed Griphook towards one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's in You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" I asked.

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

Griphook held the door open for us. I , who had expected more marble, was surprised. We were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downwards and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurling up the tracks towards us. We climbed in – Hagrid with some difficulty – and were off.

At first we just hurtled though the maze of twisting passages. I tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know it's own way, because Griphook wasn't steering.

My eye's stung as the cold air rushed past them, but I kept them wide open. Once, I thought I saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late – we plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

"I never know," I said to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, "what's the difference between a stalactite and a stalagmite?"

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don't ask me question just now, I think I am going to be sick."

He did look very green and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees trembling.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came blowing out, and as it cleared, I gasped. Inside were moulds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze knuts.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All mine – it was incredible. Hagrid helped me pile some of it into a bag.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," said Griphook.

We were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as we hurtled round tight corners. We went rattling over an underground ravine and I leant over the side to try and see what was down at the dark bottom but Hagrid groaned and pulled me back by the scruff of my neck.

Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and tripped in there," said Griphook.

"How often do you check to see if anyone inside?" I asked.

"About once every ten years," said Griphook, with a rather nasty grin.

Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top-security vault, I was sure, and I leant forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least – but at first I thought it was empty. Then I noticed two grubby little packages wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked one of them up and tucked it deep inside his coat. I longed to know what it was, but I knew better than to ask.

"What about the other one, Hagrid?" I asked.

"Dumbledore told me to get this one first and to get the other one later on in the year. Now, come on, back to the infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.

One wild cart-ride later we stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. I didn't know where to run first now that I had a bag full of money.

"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding towards Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions. "Listen, Emily, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so I enter Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when I was about to speak. "Got the lot here – another young woman is being fitted up just now, in fact." In the back of the shop, a girl with a pug-like face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up her long black robes. Madam Malkin stood me on a stool next to her, slipping a long robe over my head and began to pin it to the right the length.

"Hullo," said the girl, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," I said.

"My father's next door buying books and mother is up the street looking at wands," said the girl. She had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

I was partly reminded of the twins.

"Have you got your own broom?" the girl went on.

"No," I said.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," I said again.

"I do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," I said.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd rather leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," I said, wishing I could say something a bit more interesting.

"I say, look at that man!" said the girl suddenly, nodding towards the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at me and pointing at two large ice-creams to show that he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," I said, pleased to know something the girl didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the girl, "I've heard of him. He's sort of a servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," I said, liking the girl less and less every second.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage – lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire on his bed."

"I think he's brilliant," I said coldly.

"Do you?" said the girl, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," I said shortly. I didn't feel much like going into the matter with this girl.

"Oh, sorry," said the girl, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

But before I could answer, madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and I, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the girl, hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling girl.

I was rather quiet as I ate the ice-cream Hagrid had brought for me (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).

"What's up?" said Hagrid.

"Nothing," I lied. We stopped to buy parchment and quills. I cheered up a bit when I found a bottle of ink that changed colour as you wrote. When we had left the shop, I said, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"

"Blimey, Emily, I keep forgettin' how little you know – not knowin' about Quidditch!"

"Don't make me feel any worse," I said. I told Hagrid about the pug-like face girl in Madam Malkin's.

" – and she said the people from Muggle families shouldn't be allowed in –"

"Yer not from a Muggle family. If she'd known who yeh were – she's grown up knowin' yer name if her parents are wizardin' folk – you saw them in the Leaky Cauldron. Anyway, what does she know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles – look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"

"So what is Quidditch?"

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like – like football in the Muggle world – everyone follows Quidditch – played up in the air on broomsticks and there are four balls – sorta hard ter explain the rules."

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?

"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but –"

"I bet I am in Hufflepuff," I said gloomily.

"Better Hufflepuff then Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one of them."

"Vol – sorry – You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts."

"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.

We brought my school books in Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Hagrid almost had to drag me away from Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your Friends and Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much more) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

"I was trying to find out how to curse the twins."

"I'm not sayin' that's a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid. "An' anyway, yeh couldn' work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level."

Hagrid wouldn't let me buy a solid gold cauldron, either ("it says pewter on yer list"), but we got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then we visited the apothecary's, which was fascinating enough to make up for the horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotten cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls, bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for me, I myself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery black beetles eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

Outside the apothecary's, Hagrid checked my list again.

"Just yer wand left – oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."

I felt myself go red.

"You don't have to –"

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years age, yeh'd be laughed at – an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer post an' everythin'."

Twenty minutes later, we left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. I now carried a large cage which held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. I couldn't stop stammering my thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell.

"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from the Weasleys. Just Ollivanders left now – only place fer wands, and yeh gotta have the best wand."

A magic wand ... this was what I had been really looking forward to.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as we stepped inside. It was a tiny place except for a single spindly chair which Hagrid sat on to wait. I felt as if I had enter I very strict library; I swallowed a lot of new questions which just occurred to me and looked instead at the thousand of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of my neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. I jumped. Hagrid must have jumped too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he quickly got off the chair.

An old man was standing before us, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," I said awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Emily Black." It wasn't a question. "You have your mothers eyes. It seemed like only yesterday she was here herself, buying her first wand. Eleven and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of holy. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr Ollivander moved closer to me. I wish I could blink. These silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a vine wand. Nine and three quarters. Pliable. More powerful and great for nonverbal spells. Well, I say your father favoured it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr Ollivander came up so close that he and I were almost nose to nose. I could see myself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where ..."

Mr Ollivander touched the 'V' scar on my forehead with a long, white finger.

"I am sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands ... Well if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do ..."

He shook his head and then, to my relief, spotted Hagrid.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! Nice to see you again ... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes" said Hagrid.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Er – yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feel. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you still don't use them?" said Mr Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. I noticed that he gripped his pink umbrella tightly as he spoke.

"Hmmm," said Mr Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now – Miss Black. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er – well, I'm right-handed," I said.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured me from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round my head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Miss Black. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstring of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two, unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never have the same results with another wizards wand."

I suddenly realised that the tape measure, which was measuring between my nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumbled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Miss Black. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

I took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr Ollivander snatched it out of my hands almost at once.

"Maple and Phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try – "

I tried – but I had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr Ollivander.

"No, no – here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

I tried. And tried. I had no idea what Mr Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the chair, but the more wands Mr Ollivander pulled for the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find you the perfect match here somewhere – I wonder, now – yes, why not – unusual combination – Holy and phoenix feather, ten and a half inches , nice and supple."

I took the wand. I felt a sudden warmth in my fingers. I raised the wand above my head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like fireworks, throwing dancing stops of light on the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr Ollivanders cried, "Oh bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well ... how curious ... how very curious ..."

He put my wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious ... curious ..."

"Sorry," I said, "but what's curious?"

Mr Ollivander fixed me with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss Black. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – just two more. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why, gave you that scar."

I swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember ... I think we must expect great things from you, Miss Black ... After all, He Who Must Not Be Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."

I shivered. I wasn't sure that I liked Mr Ollivander too much. I paid seven Galleons for my wand and Mr Ollivander bowed us from his shop.

The late-afternoon sun hang low in the sky as me and Hagrid made our way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. I didn't speak at all.

"Got time fer a bite to eat before Molly comes to get yeh," he said.

He brought me a sandwich and we sat down on the chairs to eat them.

"You all right, Emily? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid.

I wasn't sure I could explain. I'd just had the best birthday of my life – and yet – he chewed my sandwich, trying to find the words.

"Everyone thinks I am special," I said at last. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr Ollivander ... but I don't know things about magic at all. How could they expect great things? I'm famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Vol- sorry – I mean, the night my parents died."

Hagrid leant across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile.

"Don' you worry, Emily. You'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts – I did – still do, 'smatter of fact."

Molly came down the stairs and looked at me. Hagrid took me over to Molly, then handed me an envelope.

"Yer ticket fer Hogwarts," he said. "First o' September – King's cross – it's all on yer ticket. See yeh soon, Emily."

Molly took me over to a fireplace and I wanted to see Hagrid go but I blinked and Hagrid was gone. I went into the fireplace and Molly took me home.

* * *

**Another one done. This one is a lot longer then the rest. More reviews, more chapters. Oh, and I couldn't find what Sirius's wand was made of, so I made up one.**


	6. Chapter 6

My last month wasn't much fun. True, the twins didn't tease me about magic anymore, while Ron and Percy didn't yell at me – in fact, they didn't speak to me at all. Half-surprised, half-shocked, they acted as though any room with me in it was empty. Although it was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after awhile.

I kept to my room, with my new owl for company. I had decided to call her Crystal, a name I had found in _A History of Magic_. My school books were very interesting. I lay on my bed reading late into the night, Crystal swooping in and out the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Molly didn't come in to hover anymore because Crystal kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before I went to sleep, I ticked off another day on a piece of paper I had pinned to the wall, counting down the days until September the first.

On the last day of August I thought that I should tease Ron that I was also going to Hogwarts. So I went down to the living room, where he was having some lunch. I cleared my throat to let them know I was there, and the twins looked at me and left the room.

"Hey Ron, do you know what I am most happy about?" I said happily.

Ron looked at me to show that he was listening.

"I will be going to Hogwarts – with you, Ron."

He rolled his eyes.

"I will also be in the same grade."

Ron turned away. Not happy that I would be in the same grade.

I was about to go back up to my room when Ron spoke to me.

"Are you going to be a book worm and a teacher's pet?"

I didn't say anything.

"I wonder what house you would be in."

"I don't know," I said realising for the first time, "Maybe Ravenclaw or Gryffindor."

"I think I will be in Gryffindor," he said. "Mum and dad were."

"I don't know what my mum and dad were in," I said sadly.

"I wonder what time we would be getting there anyway," he said changing the subject.

"Don't know. Is there even a platform nine and three quarters?" I asked.

"Wait and see," he said.

I woke up at five o'clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. I got up and pulled on my jeans because I didn't want to walk into the station in my wizard robes – I'd change on the train. I checked my Hogwarts list again to make sure that I have everything I needed, saw that Crystal was shut safely in her cage and then paced the room, waiting for the rest to get up. Two hours later, my huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into a Ministry car. I was sitting between Fred and George much to my liking and we were off.

We reached Kings Cross at half past ten. The twins helped put my trunk on a trolley and I wheeled it into the station.

We were coming up close to platform nine and ten.

"Packed with Muggles, of course," said Aunt Molly to the boys.

When we got close, we stopped.

"Now, what was the platform number?" said Aunt Molly.

"Nine and Three Quarters!" said Ginny, who was holding her hand. "Mum, can't I go..."

"You are not old enough, Ginny now be quiet. All right, Percy, you first."

Percy marched towards platforms nine and ten. He looked like he was going to crash into the wall but he didn't, he disappeared.

"Fred, you next," said Aunt Molly.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," he said. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear,"

I giggled a bit.

"Only joking, I am Fred," said Fred, and off he went. He called after him to hurry up, he did the same as Percy and the next second later he was gone.

Now George was walking briskly towards the ticket barrier – he was almost there – and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere.

"Excuse me," said a boy, with round glasses, a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair and bright-green eyes.

"Hullo, dear," said Aunt Molly. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron and Emily are new too."

She pointed at me and Ron.

"Yes," said the boy. "The thing is – the thing is, I don't know how to –"

"How to get on to the platform?" Aunt Molly said kindly, and the boy nodded.

"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared that you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

"Er – OK," he said.

He pushed his trolley round and stared at the barrier.

He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. The boy walked more quickly, leaning forwards on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes. The boy made it through.

"All right Ron, you now, then Emily," said Aunt Molly.

We went through and we saw a scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock. I looked behind me and I saw a wrought-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three Quarters on it. I had made it through.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some were hanging out of the windows to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. I pushed my trolley off down the platform in search of an empty seat. I passed a round-face boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad, again."

"Oh, Neville," I heard the old woman sigh.

A boy with dread locks was surrounded by a small crowd.

"Give us a look, Lee, go on."

The boy lifted the lid of the box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

I pressed on through the crowd until I found an empty compartment near the end of the train. I found the boy that I saw at the barrier having trouble with his trunk.

"Want a hand?" I asked the boy.

"Yes, please," he panted.

"Oy, Fred and George! C'mere and help!"

With the twins help, his trunk was at last tucked away in the corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," he said, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"What's that," I said suddenly, pointing at the boy's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said Fred. "Are you?"

"He is," said George. "Aren't you?" he added to him.

"What?" said the boy.

"Harry Potter," chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am."

The twins gawped at him and Harry was going red. Then a voice came through the trains open doors.

"Fred? George? Emily? Are you in there?"

"Coming Mum," said Fred.

With a last look at Harry, me and the twins hopped off the train.

When we got to Aunt Molly, she had just taken out her handkerchief.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose," said Aunt Molly.

Ron tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"Mum – geroff." He wiggled free.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nose?" I said.

"Shut up," said Ron.

"Where's Percy?" said Aunt Molly.

"He's coming now," I said.

My oldest cousin came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes and I noticed a shiny silver badge on his chest with a letter 'P' on it.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the Perfects have got two compartments to themselves."

"Oh, are you a Perfect, Percy?" I said , with an air of surprise. "You should of said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said Fred. "Once –"

"Or twice –" said George.

"A minute –" I said.

"All summer –" us three said.

"Oh, shut up," said Percy.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said Fred.

"Because he's a Perfect," said Aunt Molly fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term – send me an owl when you get there."

She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to me and the twins.

"Now, you three – this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've – you've blown up a toilet or –"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet," said Fred.

"Great idea though, thanks, Mum," said George.

"It's not funny. Set a good example for Emily. And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us," I said.

"Shut up," said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where Aunt Molly ad rubbed it.

"Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?" said Fred.

"You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station. Know who he is?" I said.

"Who," said Aunt Molly.

"Harry Potter!" chorused the twins.

"Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see him, Mum, oh please..." said Ginny.

"You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor dear isn't something you goggle at the zoo. Is he really, Fred? How do you know?"

"Asked him. Saw his scar. It really there – like lightning."

"Poor dear – no wonder he was alone. I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get on the platform."

"Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?" said Fred.

Aunt Molly suddenly became very stern.

"I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day of school."

"All right, keep your hair on."

A whistle sounded.

"Hurry up!" said Aunt Molly and the three boys and me clambered onto the train. We leant out of the window for her to kiss us goodbye and Ginny began to cry.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you load's of owls," I said.

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat," said George.

"George!"

"Only joking, Mum."

The train began to move. Me, Fred and George started to walk down to the middle of the train. We came up to the compartment that Harry and Ron were in.

"Hey, Ron," I said.

"Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train – Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there," said George.

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Harry," said Fred, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. This is our cousin Emily. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

The twins left.

"Can I sit with you. The twins can be annoying sometimes," I said.

"Sure," said Harry.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out.

Harry nodded.

"Oh – well, I thought it might be one of Emily, Fred and Georges jokes," said Ron. I rolled my eyes. "And have you really got – you know..."

He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his fringe to show the lightning scar. Ron stared.

"So that's where You-Know-Who -?" I said.

"Yes," said Harry, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.

"Well – I remember a lot of green light and a baby crying, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry dor a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realised what he was doing, he looked quickly out the window again.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, who found us just as interesting as Ron found him.

"Yeah, all mine are, or so I was told," I said.

"Er – yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already," Harry said.

The Weasley's were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pug-like face girl in Diagon Alley had talked about.

"I heard you when to live with Muggles," I said. "What are they like?"  
"Horrible – well, not all of them. My Aunt and Uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – bill was head boy and Charlie was the captain of Quidditch. Now Percy is a Perfect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

"His name is Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made Perfect but they couldn't aff- I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

Harry told us about wearing Dudley's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up.

"...and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort-"

Ron gasped.

"What?" said Harry.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd thought you of all people –"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Harry. "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet," he added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately. "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be. There's loads of people who come Muggles families and they learn quick enough," I said.

While we had been talking, the train had carried us out of London. Now we were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. We were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back our door and said, "Anything off the trolley dears?"

Harry leapt to his feet, but Ron's ears went pink and muttered that he'd had brought sandwiches. I brought some Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. Harry went out into the corridor. Harry brought some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver sickles and seven bronze knuts.

Ron stared as Harry brought it all back into the compartment and tipped it on to an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?" said Ron.

"Starving," said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches in there. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up a pasty. "Go on –"

"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with the six of us."

"Go on, have a pasty. Do you want one Emily?" said Harry.

"No thank you," I said.

"What are these?" Harry asked Ron, holding up a packet of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?"

"No," said Ron. "But see what the card is, I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?" said Harry.

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know – Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect – Famous Witches and Wizards. Ron's got about five hundred, but he hasn't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long crooked nose and flowing silver hair, beard and moustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

"So this is Dumbledore!" said Harry.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" I said.

"Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa – thanks" said Ron.

Harry turned over his card and read:

Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times,

Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Harry turned the card over and saw, to his astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," I said. "He'll be back."

"No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her... do you want it? You can start collecting," said Ron.

Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.

"Help yourself," said Harry. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."

"Do they? What they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed. "Weird!"

Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled back into the frame on his card and gave him a small smile. Ron was more interested in eating the frogs then looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Harry couldn't keep his eyes off them. Soon he had not only Dumbledore and Morgana, but Henist of Woodcroft, Alberie Crannion, Circe, Paracelsus and Merlin. He finally tore his eyes away from the druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, to open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," I warned Harry. "When they saw every flavour, they mean every flavour – you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a bogey flavoured one once."

Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully and bit into a corner.

"Bleaaargh – see? Sprouts," said Ron.

We had a good time eating the Every-Flavour Beans. I got chocolate, carrot, toffee, strawberry, apple, curry and toast.

The countryside now was flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting river and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of our compartment and the round-face boy I had passed on the platform nine and three quarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said. "But have you seen a toad at all?"

When we all shock our heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well if you see him."

He left.

"Don't know why he is so bothered," said Ron. "If I had brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I can. Mind you. I brought Scabbers, son I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing in Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

He rummaged through his trunk and pulled out a very battered looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was sticking out the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway – "

He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth.

"We've told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down. Ron looked taken back.

"Er – all right."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,

Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep. I giggled.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practise and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've learnt all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said all this very fast.

I looked at Harry and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn't learnt all the set of books off by heart either.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Emily Black," I said.

"Are you two really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you two, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you two are in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"We are?" said me and Harry.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... anyway, we better go and look for Neville's toad. You three better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

And she left, taking toadless boy with her.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron. He threw his wand beck into his trunk. "Stupid spell – George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

"What house are your brothers in?" asked Harry.

"Gryffindor," I said.

"Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin," said Ron.

"That's the house Vol- I mean, You-Know-Who was in?" said Harry.

"Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back down into his seat, looking depressed.

"You know, I think the ends of Scabbers whiskers are a bit lighter," I said, trying to take him mind off the houses.

"What do your oldest brothers do now they've left anyways?" said Harry.

"Charlie works in Romania studying dragons and Bills in Africa doing something for Gringotts," I said. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with Muggles – someone tried to rob a high-security vault."

Harry stared.

"Really? What happened to them?" said Harry.

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happened in case You-Know-Who's behind it," said Ron.

"What's your Quidditch team?" I said.

"Er – I don't know any," Harry confessed.

"What!" said Ron dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world –" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games we'd been to with our family and the broomstick he'd like to get if we had the money. He was just taking Harry through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy or Hermione Granger this time.

Three boys entered and it seemed that Harry recognized the middle one. He was looking at Harry and me with interest which didn't surprise me.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter and Emily Black are in this compartment. So it is you two, is it?"

"Yes we are," said Harry. We were looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and look extremely mean. Standing either side of the pale boy they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where we were looking. "And my name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco looked at him.

"Think my name is funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all about the Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to us.

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than other, Potter, Black. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake ours but we didn't take it.

"I think we can tell the wrong sort for ourselves, thanks," Harry said coolly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red but a pink tinge appeared in hi pale cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Black, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a nit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid and it'll start to rub off on you."

All of us stood up. Ron's face was as red as his hair.

"Say that again," he said.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"Unless you get out right now," said Harry, more bravely than he felt, because Crabbe and Goyle were a lot bigger than him or us.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we boys? We've eaten all our food but you seem to have some."

Goyle reached towards the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron – Ron leapt forwards, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.

Scabbers, the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk down into Goyle's knuckles – Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. Perhaps they thought more rats were lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come in.

"What has been going on?" she said, looking at all the sweets on the floor and Ron picking Scabbers up by his tail.

"I think he'd been knocked out," said Ron. I looked closer at Scabbers.

"No – I don't believe it – he's gone back to sleep," I said.

And so he had.

"You've met Malfoy before?" said Ron.

Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the dark side." He turned to Hermione.

"Can we help you with something?"

"You better hurry up and put on your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the driver and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Ron glared at her as she left. I peered out of the window. It was getting dark. I could see mountains and forests under a deep-purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down.

We all took off our jackets and pulled on our long black robes. Mine and Harry are perfect fit but Ron's were a bit short for him, you could see his trainers underneath them.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."

My stomach lurched with nerves and Ron, I saw, looked pale under his freckles. We crammed our pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way towards the door and out on to a tiny dark platform. I shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over heads of students and I heard a familiar voice: "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! All right there, Harry...Emily?"

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me – any more firs'-years? Mind your step, now! Firs'-years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, we followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark either side of them that I thought there must be thick tree there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' around this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly on to the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Me, Harry and Ron were followed into our boat by Hermione.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself, "Right then – FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over us as we sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; we all bent our head and the little boats carried us through a curtain of ivy hid a wide opening cliff face. We were carried alone a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking us right underneath the castle, until we reached a kind of underground harbour, where we clambered out on to rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then we clambered up a passage in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last on to smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

We walked up the flight of stone stairs and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

* * *

**I have nothing against the Weasleys! I love the Weasleys. I want at least two more reviews before I put up another chapters. So please review. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a stern face and my first thought was that she was not someone to cross.

"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The Entrance Hall was so big you could have fitted the whole Weasley's house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing us led to the upper floors.

We followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. I could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school must already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first-years into a small empty chamber off the hall. We crowded in, standing rather closer together than we would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting in a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in the front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. I tried to straighten out my hair.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. I heard Harry swallow.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was only joking," said Ron. I giggled.

I was starting to get a bit nervous. Fred was partly right about the sorting. Luckily you don't need to use magic. I looked around and saw that everyone looked terrified. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learnt and wondering which one she'd need. I tried not to listen to her. I was already nervous; I don't need to be any more nervous. I kept my eyes fixed on the do. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead me to my doom.

Then something happened that made Harry jump about a foot in the air. I and a few other people screamed.

"What the -?"Harry said.

I gasped. So did other people around us. About twenty ghosts had streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to each other and hardly glancing at the first-years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first-years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the fat Friar, smiling around at us. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"

I and a few others nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the fat Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told us, "and follow me."

Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, I got into line behind Hermione Granger and we walked out of the chamber, back across the hall and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

I had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles which were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the Hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led us up here, so that we came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind us. The hundreds of faces staring at us looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid the staring eyes, I looked upwards and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. I heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_."

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

I quickly looked back down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of us. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Something I would find in the Weasley's house.

I wonder what we had to do with it, I wondered. Everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, I stared at it too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth – and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep you bowler black,

Your top hats sleep and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head,

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve and chivalry

Set Gryffindor apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil.

Or yet wise old Ravenclaw,

If you are a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin,

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks will use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm the thinking cap!"

The whole Hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we're just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred; he was going on about wrestling a troll. You gave him the idea, didn't you, Emily?"

I nodded, giggling. Harry smiled weakly. I'm glad that all I have to do is try on the hat. I just wish I didn't have to do it in front of everyone. I don't think I would be in any of the houses at the moment. I didn't feel brave or quick-witted or anything. It would be good if there was a house for people that get nervous quickly. That would have been the one for me.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde hair pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause –

"HUFFLEPUFF" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. I saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Black, Emily!"

As I stepped forward, whispers broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Black, did she say?"

"The Emily Black?"

The last thing I saw before the hat dropped over my eyes was the Hall full of people trying to get a good look at me. The next second I was looking at the black inside the hat. I waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in my ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent for trouble, hmm. A thirst to prove yourself, that's good...So where shall I put you?"

I gripped the edges of the stool and thought, 'Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.'

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? Most of your father's family were in Slytherin. You could be great, you know. And Slytherin could help you to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Better be GRYFFINDOR!"

As soon as the hat shouted the last bit, I felt relieved. I took off the hat and walked over to the Gryffindor table. I was the first new Gryffindor. The table was far left and I could make out Fred and George. I think Fred and George were clapping the loudest. I sat between Fred and George, who gave me a hug each and a pat on the back from Percy. I shook a few of the Gryffindors hands and looked back up at the sorting.

"Bones, Susan!"

"Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" was the second new Gryffindor.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"Hufflepuff!"

Sometimes, I noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but other took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus", sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him in Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted "GRYFFINDOR", Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag".

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "Slytherin!"

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now.

"Moon" ... "Nott" ... "Parkinson" ... then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" ... then "Perks, Sally-Anne" ... and then, at last –

"Potter, Harry!"

When Harry stepped forward, whispers broke out in the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

Harry went up and put the hat on. He sat down on the stool and I waited. It took a long time but finally –

"GRYFFINDOR!"  
I think Harry got the loudest cheer yet. When Harry came over to the Gryffindor table, Percy got up and shook his hand, while me, Fred and George yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down next to Fred, opposite the ghost in the ruff we'd seen earlier. The ghost patted our arms, giving us the sudden, horrible feeling like we just plunged into a bucket of ice-cold water.

I looked up at the High Table and saw Hagrid, who caught my eye and gave me the thumbs-up. I grinned back. And there, in the centre of the High Table, in a large golden chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. I recognised him from the card Harry showed me in the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing that in the whole Hall that shine as brightly as the ghosts. I spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous man from the Leaky Cauldron.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Turpin, Lisa" became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. I and Harry crossed our fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

I clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to Harry.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy pompously as "Zabini, Blaise" was made Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

I looked down at my empty gold plate. I only just realised how hungry I was. The Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had got to his feet. He was beaming at the students, with his arms open wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see us all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered.

"Is he – a bit mad?" Harry asked Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

I looked form Harry and Percy to the table. My mouth fell open. The dishes in front of me were now piled with food. I had never seen so much food on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for a strange reason, mint humbugs.

I piled my plate with a bit of everything except the mint humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you – ?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy –" the ghost began to stiffly, but I interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How could you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if our little chat wasn't going the way he wanted.

"Like this," he said irritable. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell on his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead his, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on our faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back on to his neck, coughed and said, "So – new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindor have gone so long without winning. Slytherin have got the cup for six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable – he's the Slytherin ghost."

I looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, I was very pleased to see, didn't look to happy with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the puddings appeared. Blocks of ice-cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding ...

As I helped myself to the apple pie, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half and half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mam didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

I and a few people laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but my family thought I was Muggle for ages. My great-uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – me pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great-uncle Algie came round for tea and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by my ankles when my great-auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way down the garden and into the road. They were really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased he brought me a toad."

On the other side of Harry, Percy and Hermione were talking about lessons.

"I do hope they start straight away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult –" said Hermione.

"You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing," said Percy.

I, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nose teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into my eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on my forehead.

"Ouch!" my and Harry said at the same time, both clapping a hand to our forehead.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N-nothing," I said looking at Harry.

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off the feeling me and Harry got from the teacher's look – a feeling that he didn't like me and Harry at all.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked Percy. I nodded.

"Oh, you two know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches potions, but he doesn't want to – everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about Dark Arts, Snape."

I and Harry watched Snape for a while but Snape didn't look at us again.

At last, the pudding too disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent.

"Ahem – just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins and me. I nudged Fred and smiled.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridor.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of few who did.

"He's not serious?" Harry muttered to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere – the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us Perfects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. I noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick as if he was trying to get a fly off the end and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which Rose high above the tables and twisted itself snake-like into words.

"Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether er be old and bald,

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling,

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins and I were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted the last few lines with his wand, and when we had finished, he was the one who clapped the loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we can do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first-years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. My legs felt like lead again, but only because I was so tired and full of food. I was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as we passed, or twice Percy led us through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. We climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging our feet, and I wondered how much further we had to go when we came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in mid-air ahead of us and as Percy took a step towards them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to us. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves – show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" said Percy.

There was a pop and a little man with wicked dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at us. We all ducked except me.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll here about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. We heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as we set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us Perfects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. We all scrambled through it – Neville needed a leg up – and found ourselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cosy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to our dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase – we were obviously in one of the towers – we found our beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep-red velvet curtains. Our trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, we pulled on our pyjamas and fell into bed.

"Great food, isn't it?" I muttered to Hermione through the hangings.

"Yeah, but I wish tomorrow would come faster. There is so much to learn."

"Yeah," I said and I fell asleep.

Perhaps I had eaten a bit too much, because I had a very strange dream. I was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to me, telling me I must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was my destiny. I told the turban I didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; I tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully – and there was Malfoy, laughing at me as I struggled with it – then Malfoy turned into the hook-nose teacher, Snape, whose laugh was high and cold – there was a burst of green light and I woke up, sweating and shaking. I rolled over and fell asleep again, and when I woke next day, I didn't remember the dream at all.

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**So it took so long. I had a bad case of the writer's block. More reviews, the better chapters! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

"There, look."

"Where?"

"On each side of the tall kid with the red hair."

"One wearing the glasses and the other with the black hair?"

"Did you see their faces?"

"Did you see the scar?"

Whispers followed me and Harry from the moment we left the dormitory the next day. People queuing outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at us, or doubled back to pass us in the corridors again, staring. I wished they wouldn't, because it was starting to creep me out.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't let you in unless you asked politely; or tickled them in the right spot, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid wall just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything is, because it seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other and I swear that I saw the coats of armour walk!

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindor's in the right direction, but Peeves the poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop waste-paper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab you nose and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Me, Harry and Ron managed to get on the wrong side of him on our very first morning. Filch found us trying to force our way through a door which was unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe that we were lost, and that he was sure that we were trying to break into it on purpose and was threatening to lock us in the dungeons when we were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs Norris, a scrawny, dust-coloured creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe over the line, and she'd whisk off to Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the twins, well so I was told) and could pop up as suddenly as any ghost. The students all hated him and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs Norris a good kick.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the lessons themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as I found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

We had to study the night skies through our telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the different names of stars and the movements of planets. Three times a week we went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where we learnt how to take care of all sorts of strange plants and fungi and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring lesson was history. I had to entertain myself to stay awake. It was the only class taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been a very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff-room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind. Binns droned on and on while most of us (not me) scribbled down names and dates and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of our first lesson he took the register, and when he reached mind and Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight which I found amusing.

Professor McGonagall was again different. I had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave us a talking-to the moment we sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." I swear she was talking to me when she said that.

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. We were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realised we weren't going to be changing furniture into animals for along time. After making a lot of complicated notes, we were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only me and Hermione Granger had made any difference to both of our matches; Professor McGonagall showed the class how both had gone all silver and pointy and gave me and Hermione a rare smile. I was surprised that I went well in it.

The class I had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lesson turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told us, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but we weren't sure we believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, we had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

I was very relieved to find out that I wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like Harry, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like me and Ron didn't get much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for me, Harry and Ron. We finally manage to find our way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we'll be able to see if it's true.

"Wish McGonagall favoured us," I said. Professor McGonagall was the head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn't stopped her giving us a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the post arrived. I had got used to this by now, but it had given me a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on their laps.

Crystal had only brought one thing to me and that was a letter from Aunt Molly congratulating me for making Gryffindor. This morning she fluttered down at the same time as Hedwig. Crystal dropped the note on my plate and took a bit of my bacon. I opened the letter at once.

Dear Emily,

I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Tell Harry and he will answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid.

I nodded to Harry and Harry scribbled, 'Yes, please both of us want to come. See you later' on the back of the note and Hedwig was off again.

It was lucky that I and Harry had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that happened to me so far.

At the start-of-term banquet, I and Harry had got the idea that Professor Snape disliked us. By the end of the first Potions lesson, we knew we'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike us – he hated us.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the register, and like Flitwick, he paused at mind and Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Emily Black and Harry Potter. Our new – celebrities."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely a whisper, but we caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you would believe this is magic (I don't believe). I don't expect you will understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Me, Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Black!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

_Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? _I glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as I was; Hermione's hand had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sir," I said.

Snape's lips curled into sneer.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand.

"Lets try, Potter! Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were shaking in laughter.

"I don't know, sir," Harry said.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter and Black?"

I and Harry forced ourselves to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. I had looked through my books at the Weasley's, but did Snape expect me to remember everything in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_?

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Black, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," I said quietly. "But I think Hermione does, though, why don't you ask her?"

A few people laughed; I caught Seamus's eye and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Black and Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which goes by the name aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And two points will be taken from Gryffindor house for your cheek, Black and Potter."

Things didn't get any better for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put us into pairs and set us to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching us weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when a cloud of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob and their potion was seeping across the stone, burning holes into people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class, including me, were standing on our stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. I felt sorry for him.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as the boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on me, Hermione, Harry and Ron, who had been worked next to Neville.

"You – Black and Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you two look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another two points from Gryffindor."

I was about to argue back but Hermione elbowed me in the ribs.

"Don't, you don't want to lose any more points from Gryffindor," she whispered. She did have a point.

As we climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, my energy was low. I had lost two points for Gryffindor in my first week – why did Snape hate me so much?

"Cheer up," said Ron. "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"

At five to three we left the castle and made our way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door

When Harry knocked we heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang – back."

Hagrid's big hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back Fang."

He let us in, struggling to keep hold on the collar of an enormous boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes on to a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the Forest."

'I have to ask them about that,' I thought.

The rock cakes almost broke our teeth, but we pretended to be enjoying them as we told Hagrid all about our first lessons. I saw that Fang was resting his head on Harry's knee and drooling all over his robes.

Us three were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch 'that old git'.

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I'd like to introduce her to Fang some time. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it."

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me and Emily."

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

I looked at Harry. He seemed unsure.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot – great with animals."

I wondered if Hagrid changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid about Charlie's work with dragons, I saw Harry look at a clipping. I scooted over to him to have a look.

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on the 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizard or witches unknown.

Gringotts' goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had the fact been emptied the same day.

"But we are not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what is good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

I looked at Harry as if he knew something.

"Hagrid!" said Harry. "That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've happened while we were there!"

Hagrid grunted and offered us another rock cake. Harry read the story again. _The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day_. I looked at Harry strangely but shook it off.

As me, Harry and Ron walk back to the castle for dinner, our pockets weighed down with rock cakes we had been too polite to refuse, I thought how much fun it would be to play pranks with my favourite twins.

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**Thank you to my lovely readers for reading. Yes I know it has been awhile since I updated and that I am very sorry. Please review so I update faster.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I am so sorry I haven't updated a long time. I was busy reading other stories. I do not own any of the characters in the story, except Emily. The rest belong to J.K Rowling.**

I can't believe that I haven't thought of a prank yet. I have always managed to think of one. This time it was my turn to think of one. Sure Aunt Molly told us to not pull any pranks but that is not going to stop us. Maybe we could jinx the Slytherin it dance or something.

"Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably.

"Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk," I said.

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first-years never getting in the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories which seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang-glider on Charlies old broom (that was really funny to watch). Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who was also in their dormitory, about football. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Me and Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham football team, trying to make the players move.

Me nor Neville have never been on a broomstick in our lives, sure I had seen my cousins on them before but they did not share for reasons I don't know.

Hermione Granger was almost as nervous as me and Neville were about flying. This is something you couldn't learn from a book – not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored us all with stupid tips about flying from a book called _Quidditch through the ages_. I was very pleased that Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the post.

Errol came with some letters; he dropped a letter in front of me. I quickly open it and scanned over the letter. It was from Aunt Molly and she was congratulating me on making Gryffindor. And there was also something about making sure to keep the twins in check and don't follow in their footsteps and cause trouble. As if I would cause trouble…I would most likely be the one that came up with the prank that got us in trouble.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed us a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if you have forgotten something. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red – oh…" his face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "…you've forgotten something…"

Neville was trying to remember what he had forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Me, Harry and Ron jumped to our feet. We were half wanting a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What is going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, me, Harry and Ron and other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps into the grounds for our first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day and the grass rippled under our feet as we marched down the sloping lawns towards a smooth lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the grounds. I had heard Fred and George complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them start to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Our teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.

I looked down at my broom. It looked old and it had some twigs sticking out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say, 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

My broom jumped into my hand at once. I saw that Harry's did too. Hermione's had simply rolled over the ground and Neville's didn't move at all.

Madam Hooch then showed us how to mount our brooms without sliding off, and walked up and down the rows, correcting our grips. I had been delighted when she told Malfoy he had been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle – three – two –"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had even touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork out of a bottle – twelve feet – twenty feet. I saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and –

WHAM – a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay, face down on the grass in a heap. His broom was still rising higher and higher and started to drift lazily towards the Forbidden Forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Brocken wrist," she muttered. "Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard- faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought _you'd_ like fat little cry-babies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree?"

"Give it here," I said joining in, but Malfoy had leapt on his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he _could_ fly well – hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Black and Potter!"

Me and Harry grabbed our brooms.

"No!" shouted Hermione. "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble."

I ignored her, although she did make sense, but since when did I listen to common sense, I listened to the rule-breaking, cheeky trouble maker side of me. I grabbed my broom and kicked hard against the ground and up I went. I turned to face Malfoy in mid-air, who looked stunned. I saw that Harry was next to me.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

I saw Harry lean forward and shot towards Malfoy. Malfoy just got out of the way in time. A few people below us were clapping.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," I shouted.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and threw the glass ball high into the air and streak back to the ground.

I watched as the ball fell to the ground. I started to chase after it, weaving past obstacles. I saw Harry pass me and gathering speed. Just I foot form the ground, just enough to pull his broom straight and land safely on the ground. I landed next to him.

"EMILY BLACK AND HARRY POTTER!"

My heart sank faster than Harry just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards us. I started to tremble.

"_Never_ – in all my time at Hogwarts – "

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "- how dare you – might have broken your necks –"

"It wasn't their fault, Professor –"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil – "

"But Malfoy –"

"That's enough, Mr Weasley. Black, Potter, follow me, now."

I caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle's triumphant faces as we left, walking in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode towards the castle. I was going to be expelled or the first one of my going to be many detentions. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at us.

Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside and still Professor McGonagall hadn't said a word. She wrenched the doors open and marched along corridors with me and Harry behind her.

Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

'Wood? Who was Wood and why would Professor McGonagall want him?' I thought.

Wood was a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.

"Follow me, you three," said Professor McGonagall, and we marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at me and Harry.

"In here."

Professor McGonagall pointed us into a classroom which was empty except for peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

"Out, Peeves!" she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face us.

"Black, Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I've found you a seeker and a chaser."

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crispy. "Those two are a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broom, Black, Potter?"

Me and Harry nodded. The twins are going to be so happy when they find out.

"Miss Black weaved around obstacles with no trouble and Mr Potter caught it in his hand after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood. "Didn't even scratch themselves. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Black, Potter?" he asked excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained.

"He's just the build for a seeker, too," said Wood, now walking around Harry and staring at him and me. "Light – speedy – we'll have to get them a decent broom, Professor – a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweap Seven, I'd say."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in the last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks…"

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry and me.

"I want to hear you're training hard, Black and Potter, or I am change my mind about punishing you."

Then she suddenly smiled.

"Both your fathers would have been proud," she said. "They were both an excellent Quidditch player themselves."

"You're joking."

It was dinner time and Harry had just finished telling Ron what had happen when we left the grounds with Professor McGonagall.

"Chaser and seeker?" he said. "But first-years never make the team. You two must be the youngest house player in about –"

"-a century," me and Harry said at the same time.

"Wood told us," said Harry.

Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat there and gaped at me and Harry.

"We start training next week," I said. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Fred and George came into the hall, spotted Harry and me.

"Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too – beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch Cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Emily and Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"You better bloody believe I am good," I said cheekily to the twins.

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"If there is, tell me," I said.

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now you are back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. I must admit, that was a good comeback. I should use that sometime.

"I'd take you on any time on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room, that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, Ron, Harry and me looked at each other.

"What is a wizard's duel?" said Harry. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, a second's thee to take over if you die," said Ron casually. Catching Harry's face I added, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy could do is send sparks at each other. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested.

"Ron, you are turning into me," I laughed. He just shrugged.

"Excuse me."

We look up and saw it was Hermione.

"Cant a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered.

"- and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you get caught, and you are bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"I must admit, Hermione is right. It would lose a lot of points," I said, looking away.

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Goodbye," said Ron.

All the same, it wasn't what you would call the perfect end to the day. Hermione woke me up around fifteen past eleven.

"Hermione, tell me why you are waking me up at this hour again," I said sleepily, rubbing my eyes.

"Because we are going to try and stop them from getting in trouble," she explained. I yawned.

"Hermione, I know Ron. He is stubborn and when he sets his mind to something, it can't be changed easily."

"Well we can at least try."

It was around half past eleven when we heard Ron and Harry come down.

"I can't believe you are going to do this, Harry," said Hermione.

I turned the lamp on. Hermione was wearing a pink dressing-gown, whereas I was wearing a black one.

"You!" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed, both of you!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped. "Percy – he's a Prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

"Come on," Harry said to Ron. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.

Me and Hermione weren't going to give up that easily. We followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at us like an angry goose.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away."

"All right, but I warn you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so –"

But what they were, they didn't find out. I pulled Hermione to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found ourselves facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a night-time visit and me and Hermione were locked out of Gryffindor Tower.

"Now what are we going to do?" she asked shrilly.

"That's your problem," said Ron. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

Ron and Harry started to walk off. I looked at Hermione and we started going after them. We caught up with them near the end of the corridor.

"We're coming with you," she said.

"You are not."

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all four of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you and you can back me up."

"You've got some nerve –" said Ron loudly.

"Shut up, both of you!" said Harry sharply. "I heard something."

It was a sort of snuffling.

"Mrs Norris?" breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.

It wasn't Mrs Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as we crept closer.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours. I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere," I said.

"How's your arm?" said Harry.

"Fine," said Neville, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good – well, look, Neville, we got to be somewhere, we'll see you later –"

"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet. "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione, me and Neville.

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I learnt that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about and use it on you."

Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how to us the Curse of the Bogies, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned us all forwards.

We flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn I thought there would be someone there, but we were lucky. We sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed towards the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't even there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. We edged along the walls, keeping ours on the doors at either end of the room. Harry kept his wand out in case Malfoy leapt in the started at once. The minutes crept by.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

Then a noise in the next room made us jump. Harry only raised his wand when we heard someone speak – and it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they may be lurking in a corner."

It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at us to get us to follow him as quickly as possible; we scurried silently towards the door away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when we heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," we heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to us and we began to creep down the long gallery full of armour. We could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run – he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour.

The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

"RUN!" Harry yelled and the five of us sprinted down the gallery, not even looking back to see if Filch was following. We swung around the doorpost ad galloped down one corridor then another, Harry was in the lead. We ripped through a tapestry and found ourselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near our Charms classroom, which we knew was miles from the trophy room.

"I think we lost him," panted Harry, leaning against the cold wall and wiped his forehead.

"I – told – you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest. "I – told – you."

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor Tower," said Ron, "quickly as possible."

"Malfoy tricked you," I said to Harry. "You realise that, don't you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

"Let's go."

We hadn't walked more than a dozen steps when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of us.

It was Peeves. He caught sight if us and gave a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves – please – you'll get us thrown out," I pleaded.

Peeves cacked.

"Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you give us away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

I rolled my eyes.

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves – bad mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Ducking under Peeves we ran for our lives right to the end of the corridor, where we ran into a door that happened to be locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, as we pushed helplessly at the door. "We're done for! This is the end!"

We could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves' shouts.

"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock and whispered, "Alohomora!"

The lock clicked and the door swung open – we piled in, shut the door quickly and pressed our ears against the door, trying to listen.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me.'

"Say please."

"Don't mess me about, Peeves, now where did they go?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves, in an annoying singing voice.

"All right – please."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaa!" And we heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

"I must admit that was good. I should try that some time," I whispered to myself.

"He think this door is locked," Harry whispered. " I think we'll be OK – get off, Neville!" For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's dressing- gown for the last minute. It be honest, I don't blame him.

"What?"

I just continued to stare at the giant three headed dog. It was nearly as tall as the roof. Harry turned the doorknob and we all fell backwards. Harry slammed the door shut and we all ran. We didn't see Filch anywhere, not that we cared. We didn't stop running until we reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, sounding a lot like Aunt Molly if we come home late.

"Never mind that – pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry and the portrait swung forward. We scrambled into the common room and collapsed into the armchairs.

It was awhile before anyone spoke. I rarely become speechless. I have never seen anything like that before, I wouldn't mind that as a pet. Imagine the look on Ron's face I did have one. I have to tell Fred and George about this tomorrow.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, it's that one."

I got my breath back and my temper started to rise.  
"You don't use your eyes, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its head. In case you haven't noticed, there were three."

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It was obviously guarding something," I said.

Hermione stood up, dragging me up too.

"I hope you are pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed – or worse, expelled. Now if you don't mind, we are going to bed."

Hermione dragged me up the stairs and into our dormitories. We both headed to our beds and laid down.

"Night, Hermione," I said tiredly.

"Good night, Emily," she yawned.

* * *

**And that is this chapter done.**

**Harry: About time. You haven't updated for six months.**

**Me: Sorry, next one will be faster.**

**Hermione: It better. I have to put up with these two.**

**Ron: Hey! We're not that bad.**

**Fred: Review so that she...**

**George: ... will write chapters faster.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Here is the next chapter. I however do not own Harry Potter or the plot. That all belongs to J.k Rowling. I only own Emily.**

The look on Malfoy's face was priceless when he saw that me, Ron and Harry were still at Hogwarts.

"It is either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.

"Or both," said Harry.

I didn't have much interest in the mysterious object. Hermione refused to talk to Ron and Harry. I think it was because of last night. I liked what I received in the post about a week later.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by two long thin packages carried by six owls each. I was interested to see what was in the parcels and was amazed when one of them landed in front of me. Another owl came and dropped a letter in front of me.

I carefully opened the letter, thinking it wasn't from Aunt Molly or Uncle Arthur, because they didn't have that much money. The letter said:

DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.

It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand,

But I don't want everybody knowing you've

Got a broomstick or they'll want one.

Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the  
Quidditch pitch at seven o'clock for your

Frist training session. Don't worry Harry Has

Also received a broomstick, he will be there

As well.

Professor M. McGonagall

I had a big grin on my face as I showed Fred and George my letter. They too also had big grins after they read it.

"A little unfair isn't it?" said Fred.

"I think McGonagall favours her more than us," said George.

I pulled them along to the common room because I wanted to unwrap it. We ran all the way with no interruptions except Peeves, who had a crazy grin on his face when he saw my broom. I saw Harry and Ron making their way there too.

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" said Hermione, stomping up the stairs looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand. She didn't notice mine?

"I thought you weren't talking to us?" said Harry.

"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.

I had trouble keeping my mind on my lessons and not my broomstick that was in my dormitory. I finished my dinner quicker than I would normally would. I didn't have to pull Fred and George with me as they were running with me. When we reached the common room, Fred grabbed my arm.

"Go to your room and get your parcel," said Fred.

"And meet us in our room," said George.

I nodded and ran to my room. I grabbed the broom from under my bed and ran back down. I then walked up the stairs to the twin's room as I stared to the broom. When I was outside their room, I opened the door. Fred and George were sitting on Fred's bed but were up on their feet in an instant. They grabbed the broom from my hands and went back to the bed. I followed, not wanting to miss out. They ripped the paper off and out came the broom. It fell on the floor because the twins ripped the paper roughly. The broom was sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle; it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and _Nimbus Two Thousand _written in gold letters near the top.

As seven o'clock drew closer, I left the castle and set towards the Quidditch pitch in the dusk. I had never been in the stadium before but I heard good things from Fred and George about how there were three poles on each end of the pitch with hoops on the end. I waited on the pitch until I saw that Harry came. He looked at the pitch with interest. He then mounted his broom and kicked the ground. He swooped in and out of the goalposts and then sped up and down the pitch. I saw then Oliver had arrived.

"Hey, Potter, come down!"

Oliver was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. I walked over to him and Harry landed next to me.

"Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant. You really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you two the rules this evening, then you two will be joining team practice three times a week."

He opened the crate. Inside were four different sized balls.

"Right," said Wood. "Now, Quidditch is easy to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each team. Three of them are called Chasers."

"Three Chasers," Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball.

"This ball's called the Quaffle," said Wood. "The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Black, you are one of our Chasers. You two still following me?"

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it though the hoops to score," Harry recited. "So – that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

"What's basketball?" said Wood curiously.

"Never mind," said Harry quickly.

"Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper – I'm the Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry. "And they play with the Quaffle. Ok, got that. So what are they for?" he pointed at the three balls left inside the box. I was curious as well.

"I'll show you now," said Wood. "Take this."

He handed me the Quaffle. It was heaver then I thought it would be. He handed Harry a small club.

"I'm going to show you what Bludgers do," Wood said. "These two are the Bludgers."

He showed us two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle.

"Stand back," Wood warned us. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.

The ball rose high in the air and then came straight back down. Harry swung at it with the bat and sent it zigzagging away into the air. It came back and went straight at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

"See?" Wood panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. "The Bludgers rocket around trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team. The Weasley twins are ours – it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them towards the other team. So – think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goalposts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," said Harry.

"Very good," said Wood.

"Er – have the Bludgers ever killed anyone before?" I asked.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you Potter. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers –"

"- unless they crack my head open."

"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the bludgers – I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

"I will have to tell them that," I said.

Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttered sliver wings.

"This," said Wood, "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it could go on for ages – I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could be some sleep. Well that's it, any questions?"

"Nope," I said.

"We won't practise with the Snitch yet," said Wood, carefully shutting it back into the crate. "It's too dart, we might lose it. Let's try you out with these."

He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket, and few minutes later, he and Harry were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch.

Harry didn't miss a single one and my aim was good, it was just the Wood was a good Keeper. After half an hour, night had already fallen and we couldn't carry on.

"That Quidditch Cup will have our name on it this year," said Wood happily as we walked back up to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turned out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."

Perhaps it was because I was now so busy with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all my homework and pranking but I could hardly believe that I had been at Hogwarts for two months. The castle felt like a second home to me. My lessons were starting to become more and more interesting but at the same time boring.

On Halloween morning, I was woken up by something going on in the common room. I walked down the stairs and saw that Fred and George were there. I should have guessed. They saw me and both had grinned. They came over and looped arms with me.

"Hey, Em, we were thinking of pulling a prank at breakfast and we can't think of any. Think you could help?" said Fred.

I put a finger and to my chin and thought. A minute later a huge grin came to my face.

"I think I have a few good ideas," I said, grinning.

After we had finish setting things up for the pranks, some students had started to enter. We sat down and began to eat some breakfast before it was time. Most of the students are eating breakfast now. It was only a matter of time before our prank will be underway. The teachers have too, started eat their breakfast. McGonagall seemed to be keeping a close eye on the twins and I think me as well. The Slytherins have started eating and sending evil glares to some of the Gryffindors. I looked over to Fred and George and they nodded their heads. I grinned. I pulled out my wand and pointed it in the Slytherins table.

"Pokadotus," I muttered.

Multi coloured spots started to appear on the Slytherin's robes. It took them a few minutes to realise that but the look on their faces was priceless. I laughed but I stopped as soon as I saw that Professor McGonagall had left her seat and had started to walk closer to us. I try to keep a straight face but it was hard to because of the now colourful Slytherins.

"Mr Weasley, Mr Weasley and Miss Black. I take it that you three are responsible for the little show. Mr Weasley, I would think you two would have matured by now but to drag Miss Black into it. You three have detection right up until lunch time. You will all spend it with Mr Filch. You three will head off there immediately," she told us sternly.

Me, Fred and George got up and walked together to meet with Filth – I mean, Filch. We found Filch on the fifth floor mopping. We walked up to him and he saw us. He gave us a smirk and put his mop in the bucket.

"You three will be mopping the castle, without magic. Now get to work."

We were each handed a mop and bucket and he took our wands. We started on the first floor and worked our way up. Of all the punishments we had to get, it had to be this one. Well, this will be one of the very many detentions I will have. Noon came around eventually and by that time we were tired. We handed Filch our mops and we walked always. The twins went to find their friend, Lee, were I went to try and find Harry and Ron. I walked down one of the hallways and found them. I joined them at their side.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her, she's a nightmare, honestly," said Ron.

Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. I saw some tears on her face.

"I think she heard you," said Harry.

"So? She must have noticed she's got no friends," said Ron.

"Ron, I am her friend," I said as I ran to find Hermione.

I found her in the girls bathroom, crying. I walked up to her and sat next to her. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her gently. She cried on my shoulder as I rubbed her back.

"Forget what Ron said, Hermione. He can be a big idiot sometimes," I said.

We sat like that for some time when we heard a noise. We looked up slowly and what we saw was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the ground because its arms we too long.

Me and Hermione looked at each other and screamed. Harry and Ron ran into the room. Me and Hermione were shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if we were going to faint. The troll was advancing on us, knocking the sinks off the wall as it went.

"Confuse it!" Harry yelled to Ron, and seizing a tap he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.

The troll stopped a few feet from us. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, and then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the room and threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout towards Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.

"Come on, run, run!" Harry yelled at us, trying to pull us towards the door, but we were too scared to move.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started towards Ron, who was the closest and had no way to escape.

Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: he took a great running jump and managed to fastened his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he had jumped – it had gone straight up one the troll's nostrils.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him with a terrible blow with the club.

Me and Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron had pulled out his wand.

_Don't do anything stupid, Ron_, I thought.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he yelled.

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turning slowly over and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto the troll's head. The troll swayed on the spot and fell on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

I got up and walked over to were the troll laid.

"Is it – dead?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think so. I think it's just been knocked out," said Harry.

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy grey glue.

"Urgh – troll bogies."

That has to be one of the most disgusting thing I have seen. Harry wiped his wand on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of us look up. We hadn't realised what a racket we had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Harry Ron and me. I had never seen her so angry. My guess we aren't getting any points.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. I looked at Harry, who looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

I looked at the ground. I was going to have fun telling Fred and George about this.

"Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me."

"Miss granger!"

Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.

"I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with one on my own – you know, because I've all about them."

Ron dropped his wand. Hermione was telling a teacher a lie.

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. Emily had been trying to get me out of the way. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

"Well – in that case…" said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of us. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head. I was speechless. Hermione was the last person I would think to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get us out of trouble. It was if me, Fred and George had giving up on pranking and had started being responsible.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I am very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione left.

Professor McGonagall turned to us.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first-years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

We hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until we had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll.

"We should have got more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.

"Ten, you mean, once she has taken off Hermione's," I said.

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Harry reminded him.

"You locked it in there with us!" I shouted at them. They nodded.

We had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout," we said and entered.

The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for us. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of us looked at each other, we all said 'Thanks', and hurried off to get plates.

But from that moment on, Hermione was a part of the group.


End file.
